


Have You Taken Me Back?

by thecreativewritingstudent



Category: Parade's End - All Media Types
Genre: 01x03, 01x04, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Porn, Based On The Novels By Ford Madox Ford, Because Truthfully Sylvia Deserved More, F/M, Fix-It, For Christopher Was Meant To Be With Sylvia, Forginess, Neglected Fandom, Or At Least He Does Not Leave Her For Ms Wannop, PWP, Porn With Plot, Second Chances, Smut, Sort Of, Sylvia Confesses Her Love to Christopher, Why Am I Always Writing For Dead Fandoms?, and they get together, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 01:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20498393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecreativewritingstudent/pseuds/thecreativewritingstudent
Summary: This fic is about what should have happened in episode 3 and episode 4. Sylvia is less demanding and comes to terms with her feelings for Christopher and the latter decides that maybe his wife deserves a second chance. A Fix-it of some sort.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language but I hope you guys will love the story.  
Happy Reading!!

"Oh, Christopher! If you had once in our lives said to me, "You whore! You bitch!" or about the child, or Perowne, you might have done something to bring us together. And I daresay, if you're shot, Christ... Between the saddle and the ground, you'll say that you never did a dishonourable action. In the name of the Almighty, how could any woman live beside you?" said Sylvia, her voice filled with raw emotion, her eyes almost leaking and her lips shaking.

"But I never disapproved of your actions". Christopher replied, seeming almost indifferent to her blind eyes. 

"But I wanted you to!" His wife said, almost screaming. She banged her fist on the dining table, like a spoiled child who was told by her parents to go to bed before nine o'clock, after getting up from her seat to get closer to her husband. "I desperately wanted you to. I wanted you to scream, or to throw me out, or to angrily make love to me. I wanted to you that you care. You've been punishing me with your indifference and I cannot stand it". She got even closer to him and she could not help but feel hopeful. His expression had changed and he looked as if he wanted to cry. _Well, that makes two of us_, she thought. "I cannot stand being under your roof without being able to touch you, or embrace you or even come near you, without having you wince at my proximity. You forgave my actions, without mercy. And here I am, trying to tell a fool how much I love him".

His eyes widened at her words but he stood still like a log. He did move his hand a bit, probably to wipe one of the tears that had leaked off her beautiful eyes but he quickly returned his hand back to its place, next to his thigh and curled it to a fist and for the first time in a long time he noticed just how beautiful his wife was. She was breathtaking. Sylvia saw his actions but she could not understand whether he was aroused or extremely angry.

"You love me?" he said before she could even manage to think of a way to take it all back.

"I do. And I pray to God every night, begging him to remove this love from my heart, but every day I wake up loving you even more. I've promised you that I would be faithful to you when you took me back. I've lived chastely since then, hoping that someday you'll want me again. I was wrong." She tilted her head a bit and studied him carefully before muttering; "Do you want a divorce, Christopher?" This was an honest question. If he wanted a divorce she would give it to him, but not without a fight.

"No, I don't want a divorce, Sylvia".

"Then what do you want? Have you taken me back? Or is this marriage just your way to make us both unhappy?" She was now openly crying and no matter how much she wanted to keep her tears in she could not help it. Salty water was wetting her gown. She looked so much younger like this, and strangely Christopher enjoyed watching her tears blend with her freckles.

His mouth was salty from his weeping as well when he united their lips. The kiss was desperate and needy and not at all forced and she quietly moaned as his hands found her neck and her fire-coloured curls. He was pulling her closer and closer and she was trapped in his embrace. 

Lips moved together with passion and, soon, Sylvia found herself pressed against one of the dining chairs. They broke their kiss to breathe, foreheads pressed together. "I am so sorry Christopher. I wish I had loved you sooner". He pressed her against him again and she felt his growing erection rub on her thigh. She undid the buttons of his uniform and took off his tie. Her fingers were roaming on his clothed torso while his hands found their way to her dress, lifting it up so that he could caress her skin. "Bed", she murmured, "Please, take me to bed.

* * *

The last article of clothing that fell on the ground was his underwear.

He teased her nipples with his thumbs and she was slowly yet firmly stroking his erection, her thumb caressing the tip, gathering the leaking precum before stoking again. She was dripping wet and after a minute or so she gently pushed him to lay on her bed. When he was comfortably laid out in front of her she moved and straddled his thighs, her warmth rubbing against his length. She did not manage to take him inside him because, with one swift move, he turned them over. He was positioned between her legs, the head of his cock rubbing her clit slowly, teasing her. His hands found her locks and his mouth hers. He licked her lower lip, silently demanding to be inside her mouth and she quickly united their tounges into a sensual dance which turned into a battle for dominance. By the time they broke the kiss they were both panting and Christopher moved his hands between her legs.

He did not enter her slowly and carefully as she expected. He entered her forcefully. He pounded into her almost angrily and she was sure that there would be bruises left on her thighs, purplish shapes resembling his fingers. His grip on her tightened and he moved faster, the tip of his cock massaging her g-spot before going deeper and deeper and deeper. She moaned his name in his ear and he grunted in hers. Her hips were moving with him, even though with difficulty since his hands hadn't moved. She moaned and cried out and he changed his position, just a tiny bit. His pelvis was hitting her clit with every thrust and her back arched from the pleasure. Within seconds pleasure overtook her body and she cried out once, twice before screaming his name. He followed her into oblivion, not long after her orgasm, shooting his pleasure deep inside her.

He removed himself from her warmth and they both groaned at the loss of contact.

After a few minutes, he got up and reached for his trousers. 

"No, wait, don't-"

"Mark is going to walk me to the War Office."

"Christopher!" Sylvia cried out. She got out of bed and took the piece of clothing that was hanging from his hands, not giving him a chance to dress. "You don't love me, do you?" she asked, her eyes watering again. Maybe fucking her and then discarding her like a whore was the punishment she deserved.

"I have to go, Sylvia". She gave him his trousers and left so that he could dress.

She did not bother to wear any clothes. 


	2. Am I Done For You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not Edited. Hope you enjoy though!  
Happy Reading!

_What a fool! What an imbecile, _thought Sylvia after returning from Marks office. He claimed that he could not help Sylvia with her quest. _Well, that's bullshit_. Sylvia swore that she would go to see Christopher in Rouen. Not only did she crave his (so-called) physical contact but she wanted to see him. She wanted to know that he was safe and sound. For the first time in her life, she cared so much for someone other than herself. And she cared for her son as well, for he was Christopher's. He was a spitting image of him, with his blonde hair and pure eyes. Even his mannerisms were his. But still, sometimes she wondered; what if he was not actually her husband's son? What if he was Drake's? She shivered at the thought. 

She had to catch the first train to Rouen. She really had to.

* * *

"Potty! What are you doing here?" asked Sylvia, her voice filled with surprise and amusement. Potty Perowne was definitely the last man she expected to encounter on her way to Christopher.

"King's Messenger! Glorified postman, really, but frightfully important! Locked carriages, private cabins, saluted through the gate", he was just as enthusiastic and boyish as she remembered him. Now, a little after five years from their affair, she could not believe that she left Christopher or any other man (or woman) she could have started an affair with for Potty. He was so... he was a boy. "Where are you off to?" he continued.

"Where are you?" she asked back.

"This way, sir", said a man in a train station uniform. Potty, completely ignoring him, said; "God, I've missed you, Sylvia". And she laughed.

* * *

"I must say, you look divine in your uniform".

"Enchante, madam".

"I knew le brave Capitaine and his wife in London before the war, and didn't we see each other somewhere in France in 1912?" asked Sylvia the french officer, conversationally.

"Here, in Rouen, madam. Extraordinaire!"

"Does Christopher know I'm here?"

"No. As soon as his draft leaves for the station, he'll have a few hours to come to the hotel. Failing that, all my officers are under orders to attend my regular entente cordiale party tomorrow."

"Why can't I see him now?"

"You may have noticed there's an air raid."

"Isn't that normal where the war is?"

"The Captain's on duty and can't leave the camp. I've booked you the room next to his. There's a connecting door." said the other British officer.

"If Christopher is billeted at the hotel, why doesn't he sleep there?"

"He bunks down in the hut lines. We're working under difficult circumstances."

"Are we?" she asked the younger man, mockingly. "I know why Christopher doesn't sleep at the hotel. He's got his mistress in Rouen, with the child. How old is that child now? Five?

"No," said the General. "Of course not. I know nothing about If you're talking about Miss Wannop, I'm not prepared to Even if his treatment of you has been-"

"Yes, Miss Wannop, Christopher's little suffragette." she interrupted him before laughing controllably. "I've nothing against them being pro-German, I have German friends myself."

"I say, steady on." said the lower-ranked officer but he was interrupted by the General. "Yes, stop doing that. What does your mother call it? Shower-baths."

"Is Sylvia pulling the strings of the shower-bath?" she asked mockingly but somehow erotically and carefreely was well.

"I say, I say, they've got the vote, though." said the officer, desperately trying to change the subject. "Saw it in the Sketch. Will you vote, Mrs Tietjens?"

Apparently he was not smart enough to change the subject without Sylvia understanding it, "I am not going to the hotel until I have seen Christopher with my own eyes." she said. And that was that.

* * *

She took the car. She thanked and lightly flirted with the privates that lined up in front of her. She got into the car again and saw Christopher running her. She watched him in his tracks as he took in her presence and she nodded to his direction as the car took off.

* * *

She saw him again at the hotel, when she was having a light and casual conversation with Potty Perowne. She nearly swooned at his chivalry, but at the same time, she really wanted to go to him to either kiss him or give him a lecture about his old-fashioned respect.

"Dites à ce monsieur que je suis occupée". she said to the hotel man.

And she saw him leave to go upstairs, to his room, possibly. Little did she know that Christopher might have been craving her as well.

"Does Christopher have a girl in this town?"

"No, he's too much of a stick. He never even goes to Madame Suzette's. Now, look here, will you let me come to your room tonight or not?" she laughed wholeheartedly.

"What's your game? Hell and hounds, you can't have come here for HIM! What's your game?"

"I'm going to tidy up before the General's tea party. Wait for me. I won't look like I can't find a man to escort me." She was serious now.

"Campion will send me to the trenches if it looks like that."

"Do you mean you wouldn't die for me, Potty?"

"Hang it all, what a cruel fiend you are."

"I'm a woman desperately trying to get her husband back." And she meant that. She meant every word. "If Christopher would throw his handkerchief to me, I would follow him 'round the world in my shift."

"No, you wouldn't. You're just wanting to make him squeal."

* * *

"My dear! Come to do your bit for the Grand Alliance? You've already seen each other."

"Yes, I made time to stop off at the hotel, sir." Christopher appeared to be almost indifferent about Sylvia.

"Good."

"Well, I suppose I should thank you for being clear," she said after the General had left.

"I don't understand you."

"You didn't come back to the hotel to sleep. You prefer all the fun of camping out with your Boy Scouts, do you? Or did you spend the night with your mistress in her little nest in this frightful town?"

"I hardly got any sleep anywhere. There was a railway strike. I was landed with 3,000 men I'd despatched to the front lines three hours earlier. The French way of telling us that-"

"I'll scream if you don't stop," she muttered cynically. Sometimes she did hate him.

"Sorry. I've forgotten how- how to be at peace, I suppose. How is Michael? He hasn't written to me." He had a pained expression on his face.

"He hardly knows you. I came to settle things between us. Will you come to the hotel tonight?"

* * *

"Christopher! You look half dead."

"Not far off it. Have you had dinner?"

"Mmm. I vamped an old fool of a general over a cutlet. Then the air raid started and he went off to order everybody about."

"General O'Hara. Just had the pleasure."

"What have you been doing?"

"Since I saw you? Let me think. Well, I have inspected 2,934 toothbrushes, most of which were clean, as the soldiers use their button-brushes for their teeth, to keep their toothbrushes clean for inspections."

"So you betrayed me with a battalion! You want a brandy? I'll ring down."

"Rum and hot water, if you would."

"Of course. Would you like to bathe?"

"I think I would, you know."

"It's sheer cheek putting a gun where people of quality might be wishing to sleep or converse." She said conversationally and he laughed at her bad joke.

"They're not answering. I'll try again. I've brought a few letters for you. Two from Mrs Wannop, who doesn't realise her daughter is your mistress, and one from your brother, Mark, which begins, "Your bitch of a wife came to see me". You should read that first, it's what one of the things I came to see you about."

"Thank you."

"The War Office brilliantly sent it on to the flat. I've always understood that your idea of a marriage is that a husband and wife should be able to read each others' letters."

"Of course." she wanted to laugh at his answer but decided against it.

"I'll go-" he was sleeping. He was sleeping so peacefully and she watched him as he lightly snored. He looked so peaceful and so young at this situation and it seemed to her that they were just a happily married couple, taking a vacation to a warless France. Ironically that was not the case. 

* * *

"What is it?" she asked when she heard the door close and Christopher walking around. 

"The draft has been brought forward. I have to be at the camp by 4:30." He walked into her room and she noticed from her vanity that he got embarrassed seeing her in a state of undress. 

"It's ridiculous that a man of your ability should be at the beck and call of a lot of gaga old fools like the one downstairs. You shouldn't be here at all. You're not fit."

"Nobody posted to a Base Depot is fit. That's why we're here. I'm sorry you felt you had to come all this way to settle something I'd be perfectly happy for you to have settled for yourself." a small pause. "Groby is at your disposal if you want to live there with Michael, and, of course, with sufficient income to keep it up."

"That means you don't intend to live there yourself. Or you intend to get killed. I should warn you that if you do get killed, I shall cut down the cedar. It darkens the drawing-room and the rooms above." He frowned uglily. "At last, I changed the expression on your face."

"I haven't the slightest intention of getting killed. But it's not really up to me."

She got up and removed her see-through robe. He looked up at her with surprise written on his expression.

"That was not the only thing I came here to talk to you about."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Your brother refers to me as 'that whore'. Is that what I am to you? A whore?" He did not answer. "I see. When I asked you if you wanted a divorce, you said no. If I am just a whore to you, why don't you divorce me? Why are you punishing me? Why are you punishing yourself? If you want to marry that Wannop girl, I don't want to stand in your way."

"You would let me divorce you?"

"Yes". He got up and came to stand near her. She had this sad expression on her face. An expression of sorrow. Her eyes told him that with that 'yes' she uttered that she had lost everything. She was truly an unhappy woman.

"Why?" he asked and it took everything in her power not to kill him then. Instead;

"You know why." He nodded. 

"You love me," he said, his voice filled with certainty and newly-found confidence.

"That," she sighed, "I do."

"So," he came even closer to her, so close that his proximity seemed mocking to her. "If you love me, why would you divorce me?"

"Because I want you to be happy". She touched his cheek and much to her surprise, he did not flinch. "If I am the one making you unhappy, how can I let you be with me. I am done for you". He touched her cheek as well, his thumb lightly ghosting over her lower lip. "Am I done for you?"

He kissed her. His lips gently found hers and he nodded 'no', while their lips were still connected. His hands had found their place at the crook of her lower back and he pushed her slightly closer to him, aiming to deepen the kiss, his tongue nipping on her lower lip, his mouth half-open, waiting be take her tongue into his mouth or to be pushed away. After a momentary shock, she returned the kiss and moaned at the tenderness of his actions. She moved her hands to rest on his shoulders and united their tongues into a sensual dance.

Filled with passion, Christopher pulled her so close that anyone watching would find it very difficult to tell where she ended and he began. Their limps were united in such an intimate way that they both knew that they have never been so connected to each other, both emotionally and physically. "I Love you, I love you, I love you" whispered Sylvia when the broke the kiss, their foreheads pressed together. They were breathing each others' air and they both smiled slightly.

She took off his already opened shirt, letting it fall on the floor and she hugged him. She pressed their bodies together, bringing her arms to circle his upper back, snuggling into the curve of his shoulder blades, gently kissing the spot. He moaned at her ministration and gently pushed her away from him to unite their lips once again. Kiss after kiss after kiss, she whispered against his mouth;

"Bolt the door."

He smiled at her and went to lock the door. Just as he locked it he saw the handle twist, as if someone was trying to get in.

"Someone's trying to get in". He whispered, "Get into bed".

"Oh, that's Potty, I suppose. He did not believe me when I told him that I came here for you. He probably wants to seduce me. Do not mind him, Christopher. Come here."

He did, in fact, pay no attention to him and went to his wife. When they were nearly one breath away, he took the fabric of her shift in his hands and lifted it up. She helped him undress her and she moved her hand to the waistband of his military trousers, undoing them and letting them fall on the floor. She bent to untie his boots and remove his socks. She got to his eye level again and stood there, in front of him, completely naked, waiting for him to remove his underwear.

When they were both naked, they stumbled and fell on the bed, her back pressed against the pillows. Unable to help himself, he hovered above her. 

"You are so beautiful," he said, "so, so beautiful". He moved a bit and took her nipple between his lips, lightly sucking and biting, while his left hand massaged her right breast, his fingertips rubbing the nipple ever so playfully. She arched her back, silently begging for more. With his mouth still attached to her breast, he moved his hand to her opening, parting her lips, teasing the slit, moving from her entrance to her bundle of nerves. Circling her clitoris resulted in a deep moan stuck in Sylvia's throat. 

Kissing down her body, Christopher moved and settled between her legs, gently placing them over his shoulders. He smelled her musk and looked at her perfectly shaped lips. He rubbed his nose on her pubic bone and just he darted his tongue out to lick at her folds. When his wet muscle finally touched her clitoris she cried out and moved to sit up a bit. She looked at him in wonder;

"What are you doing?"

"I am putting into action what I've been hearing from the privates. Do you want me to stop?" He asked and he flattened his tongue again, circling her pleasure spot before sucking it.

"No, please, don't stop. Don't you dare stop!"

And he didn't. He continued sucking on her clit and he even plunged his index and middle fingers inside her warmth, curling the digits upwards, gently massaging her g-spot.

"Oh, God!" she moaned and within seconds she had reached a mind-blowing orgasm. "Please, I want you inside me!" she said after a bit, and he was glad to comply with her wishes. He took a hold of his cock, rubbing the head against her sensitive clitoris and then he entered her, ever so gently and ever so slowly. They both grunted as the became one, his member so deep inside her. For a moment they stood still, but then Sylvia moved her legs and placed them above his arse, deepening, even more, the penetration. They were both so close and Christopher knew that he had to calm himself down before he began to move. "Move. Please, move". Her words gave him newly-found confidence. He felt needed and loved and he knew that he would last longer than he expected (that he had to last longer than he expected he would, just to give her her so-needed pleasure).

He started to move with calculated movements, his cock going in and out of her with caution. She was becoming restless, he could see that. Even with merely a minute of intercourse, she was chasing her second orgasm and it hit him then that his caution probably seemed like teasing. 

Christopher Tietjens was a clever man. He knew that he had to move faster. And faster he did move. 

He placed his hands on her thighs, spreading her more and he began to pound into her with reckless abandon. They were both so caught up with their pleasure that neither of them noticed that Sylvia was pushing back against him, making him fuck her harder and faster. Neither of them noticed that she had her head thrown back, her lips wide open in silent screams or that she holding the sheets beneath them for dear ol' life as their bodies rocked together. He was fucking her so hard that the bed had started to move slowly across the bedroom floor, banging against the wall.

As this was happening, Sylvia reached her hands between her legs, viciously rubbing herself as he so deliciously made love to her. Not long after that, her pussy tightened hard around her husband's cock, causing him to start to grunt with each thrust. His hips began to buckle, and soon enough he was burying him deep inside her cunt. They both moaned and grunted and cried out and they reached their orgasms almost simultaneously. Christopher, no matter how hard he tried, could not help it any more and he shot his warm sticky seed inside of her without slowing down his thrusts. The penetration and the friction on her clit made Sylvia orgasm as well, her vagina milking Christopher's cock with every tightening of the muscles.

He stayed inside her as he got up a bit, to smile down at her.

"You know," she said as she was carefully watching the pure bliss that was written all over his face. "You are not that handsome and your ideas are very old-fashioned;" He grunted in disgust at her words and pulled out of her to lay next to her. "But I am yours, for as long as you'll have me. And I really do hope, you're mine as well. Are you mine, Christopher?"

He turned his face to look at her eyes and smiled at her before enveloping her in his embrace.

"I am yours, Sylvia, I think that, maybe, I've always been, even if I was too ignorant to notice". He murmured these words into her hair and soon after that, they both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weeeeeell? How was it?


End file.
